


Not Impossible

by Anonadaire17



Category: Kim Possible (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Drama, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Soul Bond, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-10-09
Packaged: 2017-12-17 17:33:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonadaire17/pseuds/Anonadaire17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. An eighteenth birthday signifies adulthood, responsibility, and is the day that your soul-mate's name can finally be seen inscribed on the inside of your left wrist. The itching on her wrist intensifies throughout the day, until finally she understands that for a teen that can do anything, life isn't as easy as she once thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Piece of Cake

**_Piece of Cake_ **

_June 3 rd, Kim’s Eighteenth Birthday, Middleton_

“Kimmie-cub, breakfast is ready,” James Possible called up the stairs of the Possible household to his daughter.

“Hey Kim, can we have your birthday bacon?” Tim called. “Or some birthday pancakes?” Jim followed.

 _Not even a moment of peace on my day of reckoning,_ Kim thought to herself as she slowly slid out of bed and stretched for her upcoming day of celebration. Today was it, the day everyone waited for, obsessed over, and stressed out about only to reach the inevitable conclusion to an unbearable wait.

Hastily, Kim looked down at her left wrist to see nothing but purple and green veins. She scratched the itching spot then squinted her eyes to stare more intently and her unblemished skin. Some people counted down the hours, minutes, even seconds until that oh so magical name appeared; however, she was not one of those people. She _knew_ what her wrist would say. She _knew_ ; she just wanted to get it over with already. Her soul mate was waiting on her; or well, she would be waiting on him after today, she supposed. Ron’s birthday was only a little over one month away and then they would both be eighteen and bonded. Kim managed a slight smile as she made her bed and slipped on her bedroom shoes.

“Bubble-butt, better get down here before the boys steal your special birthday breakfast!” Ann Possible reminded Kim as she descended the stairs down to the kitchen.

“Hands off my bacon, tweebs!” Kim reprimanded her two younger brothers as they attempted to steal her food.

“Aww man, whoever gets stuck with you should have a therapist on speed dial,” Jim stated. “And learn how to cook their own food, so you don’t break their fingers off,” Tim added. “Hicka-bicka-boo,” one started. “Hoosha,” the other twin finished, before they scurried off to their bedroom with stolen pancakes in tow.

Kim plopped down into a chair and loaded her plate up with bacon, pancakes, eggs, the works while sipping her orange juice and trying to avoid her father’s obvious staring.

“So, Kimmie-cub, any *cough* changes you’d like to let your mother and I know about?” he inquired tactlessly.

“James, don’t start in on her first thing in the morning, if and when she’s ready, she’ll let us know, right bubble-butt?” Ann Possible questioned.

Kim kept her head down and simply shoveled more food into her mouth, trying to avoid an already awkward topic.

“All I’m saying is that some people get their mark early in the day. I did. There’s no need to be shy about it; I just want what’s best for our Kimmie.” Mister Dr. Possible continued.

“Well, I don’t have it yet, so it’s no big deal,” Kim blurted out ducking her head in embarrassment once more. “Dad, can we not talk about it, right now. There’s more to turning eighteen than just somebody’s name on your wrist.” She finished quietly.

“She’s right,” Anne looked at her husband. “So finish your breakfast and go shower and change, because Nana and the rest of your guests should be here soon for the party.” she said chidingly to them both.

…

“You’ve grown up so much!” Nana Possible shouted at her granddaughter. Kim had just finished getting dressed, when the doorbell had sounded, informing them that Nana had arrived.  Ron, Monique, and Felix had already gathered in the living room and Kim’s cousins and aunts and uncles were in the kitchen talking to the rest of the Possible family.  Kim hugged her grandmother and then led her into the kitchen, to find the tweebs trying to sneak an early taste of her cake. The resounding thump from Nana Possible’s incredibly large handbag hitting them could be heard throughout the house, as well as their denials of intended theft. _Nana’s still got it_ , Kim though while trying to hide her obvious smirk.

“We were just _admiring_ the cake,” Tim argued. “Yea, it was _appreciation_ , Kim-geez!” Jim confirmed.

 “And anyways, I bet-”

“We could build a robot-”

“That could make a cake-”

 “And we could eat all the cake we wanted” they finished creepily in unison, before scurrying off once more.

 Kim simply rolled her eyes, and closely inspected her birthday cake for any tampering.After ensuring all the more _eccentric_ relatives were occupied in conversation, she traipsed into the living room to greet her friends, scratching her wrist absent mindedly.

Ron was sitting on the couch, with Felix in his wheelchair beside him; talking about some sort of zombie video game they had a mutal love for, so Kim strode over to a moderately bored Monique, who had been privy to their conversation for far too long.

“Hey birthday girl! You’re looking pretty fabulous today- did you hit up Club Banana without me?” Monique questioned with a playful glare.

Kim smiled and hugged her sassy friend, “I might have gone to last weekend’s blowout sale while you were at your cousin’s wedding. Don’t hate me.” Kim followed the statement with her signature puppydog pout.

“Hiya K.P.,” Ron said wrapping her in a hug, before releasing her and handing over a brightly wrapped present.

“Ron, you didn’t have to-

“Naw it’s alright K.P. I know you said no presents, but I’m pretty sure Monique may have cheated and gotten you something and then I asked Felix and he said he put together something small for you, so I didn’t want to be the only one-

“Breathe Ron. Thank you, I really appreciate it,” Kim interrupted the blonde headed boy’s misguided rambling.

“You know it girl, ain’t no party without presents,” Monique interjected handing her a gift bag containing what appeared to be clothes, from Kim’s quick glance.

“You would know,” Ron responded. “For your birthday there were three tables full of presents, and those were just the ones from your friends,” he stated.

“You did register at Club Banana, three months in advance,” Kim agreed.

“December is a busy month,” Monique defended. “I just wanted people to have time to buy gifts, should they choose to get any for me,” she argued.

“I actually put my present on the table in the kitchen, because your mom said that’s where all the relatives had started to pile things up for you,” Felix interjected with a genuine smile and a head tilt toward the kitchen.

“Thanks Felix, where’s Zita? I thought you said a few weeks ago that you were bringing her,” Kim questioned, referring to Felix’s girlfriend and Ron’s sort of ex-girlfriend.

“She erm…actually got a call from the Database Center a couple days after I spoke to you, so we decided it would be best to um…see other people,” he finished with a shrug.

 _So that’s why he hasn’t been himself lately_ , Kim thought with a sense of understanding.

“Wow man, I’m really sorry,” Ron said softly.

“No, it’s okay. I mean, I guess we were just meant to be with other people. And I’ve only talked to her once since then, but she seems really happy so far. Her mark hasn’t showed up but his has and it seems like they really are a pair, so I’m happy for her,” Felix replied honestly.

Kim stood beside the couch, her own awkwardness that Felix always seemed to induce mixing with the obvious tension from his previous statement.

“I’m sure things will work out Felix, you deserve to be happy and I know your soul mate will be someone great,” Kim tried to reassure him.

She looked towards Monique, who was strangely quiet on the subject. _Something’s up with her._

After a pause in the conversation, Ron picked up the game controller and challenged Felix to a rematch, leaving Kim and Monique to themselves. Monique hadn’t said much since Felix’s confession, and had avoided all topics leading back to his breakup. Kim couldn’t help but think back to Monique’s birthday in December; since then her friend had avoided questions of her soul mate mark and Kim had not tried to pressure her into sharing the information. _Though I might make another attempt, after today._

“Hello! Hellllooooo! Kim, girl you okay?” Monique said with raised eyebrows. Kim looked back to her, no longer lost in thought and nodded that she was, in fact, listening.

“Your mom just called from the kitchen to tell you that everyone’s ready to cut the cake.”

 Bewildered, Kim glanced around the now empty living room and gave Monique a sheepish smile in response. “I guess I just zoned out there for a bit,” she reasoned.

Both girls headed into the kitchen to be met with Kim’s family as well as the boys, surrounding the family’s kitchen table and looking longingly at her chocolate cake.

“There’s the birthday girl!” Nana Possible exclaimed. James flicked the long handled lighter and lit the two candles, the first shaped like a one and the other rendered in the form of an eight.

“Alright everyone, start singing on three,” Ann said to the room of waiting guests, while Kim struggled to hide a blush.

“One, two-

Du Duh Duh Nuh

“Wade, now is really not a good time,” Kim whispered to her Kimmunicator.

“Sorry Kim, but Global Justice just received an anonymous call about the truckload of stolen lasers from Upperton. It’s Drakken; I don’t know what he’s planning, but with the cutting capacity of those lasers, this really can’t wait,” Wade elaborated.

“Do you have a ride for us?” Kim responded.

“E.T.A. three minutes,” he replied helpfully, “Oh and happy birthday Kim!”


	2. Sand and Sun

**_Sand and Sun_ **

_Air vent #27, Drakken’s lair, Las Vegas NV_

_Why are Drakken’s lairs always equipped with air vents, just small and claustrophobic enough for me to barely squeeze into?_ Kim shuffled on her elbows forward, while she brushed past a spider web and tried not to burn herself on the heated metal surrounding her. For June, especially a June as hot as this one in Las Vegas, the vents should have been blowing cold air around the clock, yet they were surprisingly still.

 Clambering forward, she heard a muffled thump behind her, then clawing at the air vent as Ron whisper screamed, “Euuuuuew K.P.! Spider! SPIDER, get it off!”

“Ron! We have to stay quiet!” she reprimanded him with a whisper scream of her own. Kim reached down and distractedly scratched her wrist for what seemed to be the millionth time that day. At this rate, she would scratch her wrist raw before _the name_ appeared.

“Gotcha K.P., ixnay on the iderspay; I killed it,” he whispered back. With Ron’s freak-out momentarily behind them, Kim shimmied forward and peered through the open slots in the air vent to the lair’s giant interior. Drakken was standing on a slightly elevated platform barking orders to his red clothed henchmen, while Shego sat in a lounge chair buffing her nails and reading the latest Villainess Weekly. Ever since the Diablo incident, Kim felt a sort of simmering resentment towards Drakken’s henchwoman. She didn’t _hate_ her, but she certainly wasn’t fond of the fact that Shego existed. _I still don’t understand why Shego took so much pleasure in making my life miserable._

Kim pulled out her Kimmunicator and beeped Wade, “Wade, I don’t see any lasers- even miniature lasers, what gives?” she inquired. “I’m not sure Kim, but they should be there somewhere. The truckload that was stolen from Upperton last week had plasma burns on the truck’s exterior that point straight to Shego. Be careful Kim,” Wade replied as Kim clicked the device off.

She peered back down through the vent slots then took out _her own_ laser lipstick, burning out the screws and carefully lifting the grate out of her way. “Okay Ron, I’ll distract Shego and Drakken and you look for the lasers,” she informed him as she silently dropped through the tiny opening and landed in a crouch behind what looked to be crates of dog harnesses, only…bigger. _What is Drakken planning this time?_

“Shego! SHEGO, are you even listening to me? Drakken whined. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, lasers and sharks and destruction- oh my” she snickered back.

 “Shego this is serious business! When these wild sharks, equipped with lasers, are returned back to the oceans they will wreak havoc on marine life and environments and then I shall RULE THE WORLD,” he cackled maniacally.

“And how exactly did we go from sharks with lasers to world domination?” she replied back in a bored tone, still not looking up from her magazine. “And why are we in Vegas? You do realize that we are surrounded by sand, right?” she questioned. “This is the worst place to keep sharks that you plan to move back into the ocean.”

“Of course I’m aware of that _Shego_. We are in Las Vegas, because my cousin Ed sent me coupons to Cirque de Soleil, which I am very excited to use,” he explained exasperatedly.

“We are in the desert-NOT sitting in an air conditioned amphitheater!” she retorted venomously.

Kim stealthily crept from behind the crates, and made her way over to the platform on which Drakken stood.

“And it’s actually quite simple Shego,” he declared, ignoring her last protest, “the sharks will cause so much damage that the world will have to fall to my leadership if they wish for me to stop the sharks’ murderous rampage. Isn’t it ingenious, Shego?” he finished.

Kim lightly tapped Drakken on the shoulder from her position behind him and landed a punch squarely to his jaw as he turned to face her. “And this plan is better than any of your other obvious winners, how exactly?” she asked.

“KIM POSSIBLE! Get her Shego!” he ordered, clutching his already bruised jaw and running over to his control station.

Shego jumped up from her lounge chair and made her way over to Kim, who had taken a defensive position from her vantage point on the platform. Kim threw a punch, but Shego dodged at the last second, turning sideways and landing a kick to Kim’s thigh.

“What’s wrong Princess, is old age finally getting you down?” she taunted with narrowed eyes and a smirk. Kim staggered, found her footing, and lashed out at Shego with renewed vigor. _She deserves this- after everything she’s done to me, after all the pain she’s caused me_. Kim landed a kick to Shego’s stomach as she fought her way out from Shego’s chokehold. “Actually, It would appear that old age is affecting _you_ , Shego” she replied back caustically.

Shego set her hands ablaze with her plasma and delivered a blow to Kim’s face, that Kim only managed to deflect by throwing her arm up at the last second. “Awww Pumpkin, I can assure you that as a woman in my prime, there is _nothing_ slowing me down.”  Kim winced in pain as the sleeve of her suit and her wrist were scorched with Shego’s plasma. Taking advantage of Kim’s momentary lapse, Shego tackled the swaying heroine to the ground, looming over Kim with a determined snarl on her face. Kim struggled to flip Shego over, and was almost successful, until Shego grabbed her arm. Instead of the previous burn of plasma fire, Kim felt a warm, pleasant tingling over her wrist, where her skin met the villainess’. Shego glanced down at where she had gripped Kim’s wrist and, in turn, Kim watched as Shego’s eyes went wide and her lips parted in surprise.

“What….how did…Kimmie?” Shego stammered as her brow furrowed in confusion. _She knows_ , Kim thought as she saw Shego’s eyes light in understanding. Suddenly the platform moved and Kim could feel the metal beneath her slide away as the two metal doors slid apart. Kim glanced down to see a tank of great white sharks, with lasers harnessed to their backs, swimming beneath her. Taking advantage of Shego’s surprise, Kim rolled them both out of harm’s way and took off towards Drakken’s control panel, where he and Ron were engaged in a slapping battle.

“Let’s go Shego! I’ve hit the self-destruct button and this place is about to blow. Farewell Kim Possible and errr Roy...no, Reggie…Remis, maybe? Alas, farewell…buffoon!” Drakken shouted to them, as he lifted his hand from the bright red button set into the middle of his control board.

Kim turned back around to find that Shego was no longer behind her. _Where did she go? My back was turned for maybe five seconds._

Kim pulled out her Kimmunicator and frantically questioned, “Wade, can you reverse the detonator?”

“It’s no use Kim, the self-destruct mode is set on a completely manual timer. Once started, it can’t be turned off; even if I were there I still couldn’t shut it down,” he replied hurriedly.

Drakken took advantage of Kim’s efforts and poked a distracted Ron in the eyes, then ran over the ledge of his cliffside lair and jumped.

Kim turned off the Kimmunicator and slid it back into her singed mission suit while yelling, “Ron we need to…Wait, where’s Drakken?

“Uh, he sort of jumped off that ledge,” Ron answered in a baffled tone, while rubbing his still aching eyes. He then pointed toward the entrance to the lair’s scenic waterfall view. “Is it really that difficult to remember my name?” he questioned agitatedly.

“Off of the ledge?” Kim replied disbelievingly as she turned her head over to the proclaimed spot. She and Ron dashed over, only to see a helicopter rising up from below them, a wild eyed Drakken clutching a rope ladder, and Shego operating the craft. “So long Possible!” Drakken screamed with one last backward glower, as a gust of hot wind and sand hit the two heroes in the face.

Kim looked over her shoulder to see the detonator’s timer counting down, 10…9…8… “Ron, hold on!” she instructed as she tackled him from the ledge and pushed the cloud button on the still intact right wrist of her mission suit.

Wade’s suit, even burned and in the middle of new upgrades, worked wonders as a blue and white parachute flew out from her back. Kim angled her legs forward in order to give them more distance from the exploding lair, while holding on to a screaming Ron.

After a few dozen feet they landed in a sort of convoluted heap onto some dusty rocks. The landing was far from perfect, and Kim knew bruises were already forming, but more than being sore, or disheartened, Kim was angry and confused. _What had happened in there with Shego?_

Kim glanced down at her now aching wrist and her eyes widened in surprise at the elegant black script. Hastily she pushed the sleeved of her scorched mission suit over it and looked back over to where Ron was sitting on a medium sized rock.

“You Okay, K.P.?” Ron questioned while rubbing his sore shoulder with distaste, and trying to rid himself of the all-encompassing sand. He split out what looked to be a mouthful of the stuff and rubbed his poor eyes again.

“I’m fine, let’s just get out of here. Maybe the tweebs haven’t eaten all the cake yet,” she replied back in her best faux hopeful voice.

 Ron smiled at her and she let out a strained exhale; he believed her. While she might only be a little sore physically, what really concerned her was that the beautiful script on her left wrist, the name of her soul mate, wasn’t Ron’s.

_What am I going to do?_

 

 

 


	3. What Lies Beneath

**_What Lies Beneath_ **

_Kim’s bedroom, Possible Household, Middleton_

The fake smile she had conjured up stayed glued to her face the entire plane ride home, and when Ron asked her if she wanted him to stay and finish with the party, she politely declined feigning tiredness. All the while she kept repeating the name that wasn’t Ron’s and held back her impending tears. Something had to have gone wrong; this had to be a mistake. She was _meant_ to be with Ron; she was certain. As soon as the cab from the airport dropped her off at her house, she waved goodbye to Ron with a half-hearted smile, and slipped into her house silently. Most of the lights in the house were off, but Kim was too occupied in her own misery to be concerned with what might have happened to her party and guests.

As she trudged up the stairs to her room, the wave of tears finally hit and she had to bite her hand to keep her sobs from making too much noise and attracting any unwanted attention. Carefully closing and locking her bedroom door behind her, Kim threw herself on her bed and clutched a pillow in order to muffle her crying. After a few minutes, she heard some knocking at her door, but remained in her bed.

“Kimmie, its mom. Can I come in?” Ann Possible questioned through the locked door. There was a pause in which only Kim’s slightly labored breathing and hitches in breath from her tears could be heard. “Well, I’m here-if you want to talk about…anything,” Mrs. Dr. Possible finished. Kim heard her mother’s steps retreating down the hallway then the light that had crept in through the crack underneath her door went out.

 _This has to be a mistake. I have to find out what went wrong and fix this. I’m supposed to be with Ron._ Hastily, Kim retrieved her Kimmunicator and flicked it to life. _Wade will know what to do. He can hack into the Database Center’s files. He can fix this._ She hit a few buttons on the device and Wade’s face lit up the screen. He was dressed in pajamas, but seemed strangely awake for this time of night.

 “Your eyes are kind of red. What’s up Kim, did everything go okay with the mission?” Wade questioned.

“Yeah, everything’s fine-I got some sand in my eyes, so did Ron. A lair in the desert isn’t really the best place for releasing sharks equipped with lasers,” Kim responded, discreetly wiping her eyes.

“So what’s going on?” Wade questioned.

“I just…I umm…I wanted to let you know that Drakken’s lair exploded so we lost the sharks and the lasers. Sorry, Wade,” she answered back hesitantly. _Nobody can know about this yet. There’s no reason to tell Wade, really. I can handle this. I can handle anything, right?_

 _“_ I understand, Kim- it’s not your fault. If anyone should be apologizing it should be Drakken, or well-Shego; she is the one who stole the lasers,” Wade attempted to reassure her. _Because she’s a thief. She has no respect for the people who actually work hard to make the world a better place. She’s barely even human, really._

“Thanks Wade,” Kim said, as she turned off the Kimmunicator and watched his face on the screen fade to black.

Kim tossed the device onto her bedside table, and then proceeded to crawl under her bed sheets. _Tomorrow will be better; tomorrow I’ll figure everything out and Ron’s name will be on my wrist and all of this will have been a bad dream._

…

The first thing Kim noticed upon waking was that she really needed to invest in a good pair of ear buds.  The tweebs had obviously concocted some sort of amateur plan involving robotics, high pitched screeching, and cake from what she could make out from her father’s yelling.

The next thing she noticed was that _the name_ , the name that wasn’t Ron’s, was still there. It was still June, and the weather was still unbearably hot, but she had to cover it up-somehow. She had no wristband, because those were given to matches that were bonded, that didn’t _have to_ hide the name but preferred the intimacy of it. _I can’t wear long sleeves, because that would be a dead giveaway that I’m hiding something-that something is wrong. I don’t wear make-up, so I can’t use that to cover it up. So there’s no way to hide it, but I obviously can’t let-_

**Knock knock knock**

“Kimmie, Kim its mom again; can I come in?” Ann Possible questioned from outside of the locked bedroom door.

“No,” Kim responded evenly. If Anne didn’t come in her room, she wouldn’t see the mark, or question why Kim was wear long sleeves during a heat wave. Although keeping her out attracted the same sort of suspicion.

“Is…is something wrong, sweetie? Are you hurt?” Ann asked, concern lacing her voice.

“I’m fine,” Kim responded from her still curled up position in bed.

“Well, since you don’t seem to want to let me in and you don’t seem very excited about venturing out, how about we talk through the door? Would that be alright?” Ann inquired hopefully.

“I don’t really feel like talking,” Kim murmured back sadly.

“Then how about I talk, and all you have to do is listen,” Ann promised in an attempt to soothe whatever was concerning her daughter.

“I…I guess that’s okay.” _Just as long as you don’t see my wrist._

“Okay, then I’ll start,” her mother said, settling to sit behind Kim’s bedroom door.

“When I was sixteen I wasn’t like you. I was smart, very smart, but I wasn’t a cheerleader and I didn’t try to save the world. I was pretty nerdy, actually. But I was extremely happy and very in love. You might not know this, but I never thought for a second I would be with your father until I met him. I had a fantastic boyfriend, back then. He was smart, genuine, handsome, even. I can remember thinking I was so _lucky_ to have found my soul mate before either of us had turned eighteen. The only problem was, he wasn’t my soul mate, and your father was. I was young and in love and so angry that day I received a call from the Database Center. I thought, ‘how dare they try to tell me that the boy I’m meant to be with, the boy I love, isn’t meant for me.’ I wouldn’t come into the Center for weeks. Eventually, because of how angry I had become, Charles, the young man I was seeing, encouraged me to visit the Center- if only to make sure.”

Kim got up from her bed and moved over to her door, so she could more easily hear the story her mother was telling.

“Even as upset as I was, I knew something had to be done about the situation, because there was some poor eighteen year old boy, James they told me, that thought we were meant for each other and he deserved to find someone, like I had found Charles. I flew out to California from Maine to see what could be done; maybe he had simply found the wrong girl and there was another Ann Cassidy Kane meant for him. Isn’t that insane? I was so convinced that I was meant to be with Charles that I had given up on any possibility of anyone else. The chances of this James having another soul mate with my name were exceedingly slim, yet I still hoped.”

“You mean…you didn’t want to be with dad? The Database Center forced you to break up with Charles?” Kim spoke up for the first time.

“Oh, no honey. The Centers never force anything. I chose your father like I chose to be with Charles or I chose to have you and the boys,” Ann explained reassuringly.

“But you were with Charles,” Kim argued back defiantly.

“I did, and I loved him- I truly did. But…when I met your father, there was no question that he was the one for me. He was handsome and smart, kind and funny- in his own way. Your father was everything Charles was, but he felt like more than my best friend, he was my soul mate,” Anne finished.

“So the Centers are always right?” Kim questioned doubtfully.

“The Centers are simply a way to find people. They’re brick buildings with employees and computers. That’s all. You are who determines who your soul mate will be,” Anne explained softly.

“So could the name change?” Kim asked hopefully.

“It’s not impossible, it has happened before, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up sweetie. That sort of thing only happens when it’s needed. Do you know how many teenagers I’ve seen come through the emergency room and lose their arm because of a car accident or a stupid choice? Those poor kids will never have the chance to see the name of their soul mate appear on their eighteenth birthday; they have to completely rely on the hope that their name appears on someone’s wrist and they can be found. I’m not telling you what to do, or who to love, I’m just saying think about it. Give this name on your wrist a chance,” Ann concluded knowingly.

Kim wiped at tears that had made their way down her face, then posed the question that had haunted her since she had first seen _the name_ , “What about Ron?”

“Ron will be okay. Charles was, and so is every other individual that thinks they’ve met _the one_ before the name appears. He _will_ find the right one, Kimmie, I promise. You’ll be alright too, you know? Everything will work out.”

“I just never thought this would happen to me. We were supposed to be together; we’ve been best friends since pre-k, and now there’s this name on my wrist and I don’t know what to do about it,” Kim confided.

“Do you want me to drive you to the Database Center in Lowerton? I know it’s a lot to go through alone Bubble-butt,” Ann said lightly.

“No…I can take care of this. I think I need to do this by myself.”

“Well, I’m really glad we talked about this, but there is something else to address, sweetheart,” Ann added.

“What?” _What else could there be? After the tsunami of emotions I’ve already had to deal with and the awful conversation I might have with Ron, what else is there?_

“Yesterday you ran off on that mission so fast, you didn’t have the chance to open any of your birthday presents and I know your friends wanted to speak to you about…everything.”

“They did? Are my presents still here?”

Ann got up from her sitting position from outside of Kim’s door, “I have to get something, but I’ll be right back alright?”

“Okay,” Kim sat patiently and sure enough her mother returned in less than a minute.

“I was wondering if you were more willing to let me in. I don’t need to see…anything; I just wanted to give you my present.”

Kim thought about her mother’s speech then agreed, “I’ll unlock the door, but you have to give me some time before you come in.”

There was no sound from behind the door, so Kim unlocked it then crawled under her comforter, wrapping the blanket around her thoroughly. The only parts of her body that could be seen were her head and neck. She looked down at her body, swathed in blanket, making sure she was completely covered.

“You can come in now,” Kim relented, allowing her mother inside. Her head stayed down, but she heard her mother open and close the door then sit at the foot of her bed.

“Kim, I know this must be hard and I can’t make this situation any less difficult for you, but I do have something that might make carrying that mark less noticeable. Ann looked down to her hands where a brightly wrapped box sat. Kim looked up but didn’t reach for the package, too afraid that even a move with her right hand might give away the secret of the elegant script on her left wrist.

“It’s not much, but your father and I did get you something else together. I just thought that it might be easier to have one of these, at least until you find a better replacement,” Ann commented, before standing up and exiting the room. The door clicked softly behind her and Kim could hear her mother’s footsteps echo down the hallway and down the stairs.

Sure that there was no longer a risk of her mark being seen, Kim reached out for the bright little gift and carefully ripped it open. Inside was a thick white bracelet, made of what appeared to be some sort of shiny plastic. Despite the bracelet being so sturdy, it was still able to stretch around her wrist. Carefully covering up the name, Kim decided that she would take her mother’s advice and find out more about the _Sheyenne Gomez_ she had so recently discovered and hidden.

 


	4. Me, Myself, and I

**Me, Myself, and I**

Database Center, Lowerton (Mostly)

The name had played over and over again through her mind as if her brain was a scratched CD that couldn’t move past an unfixable dent in her routine. Perhaps that’s the way things were supposed to be when the name showed up, but it’s not exactly like she would know. Sure, high schools had health classes and soul mate marks were discussed like everything else, but not in detail. It was private, something shared between you and the person you were meant to be with. Nobody liked to talk about the kids that never found their soul mates or the Insurgi; it was sad. They talked about the Centers and the importance of registering to make sure you could find your soul mate, yet the more intricate details were not discussed. _It’s like talking to six year olds about sex, it just doesn’t happen in the kind of detail they’ll need later._ She knew that each Database Center had protocols, and that she could only run around them so far. She also knew that not registering was practically unheard of. _What would all the posh neighbors think of that?_

Kim had walked to a bus station in Middleton from her house, and then taken the bus into Lowerton. It was easy to sneak out of her window early enough that her parents would be at work, but that the tweebs would still be asleep. She had looked up the directions to the Lowerton Database Center, since Middleton and Upperton were devoid of any Centers. It would have been much simpler to have her mother drive her or even get a ride with one of her contacts through Wade, but she felt like this was something she should do by herself. The Database Center itself wasn’t imposing. It looked harmless really, like something between a school and the DMV if she was being honest, yet she was still terrified of what she might find is the unassuming building.

She had brought her _barely obtained_ driver’s license, to act as her proof of identity as well as her proof of residence. She knew from school that Database Centers required users of the naming database to provide proof that they were, in fact, who they said they were _. It’s what keeps the information safe from the really determined Insurgi, and poor kids like me that just want to do this quietly_. Kim wasn’t sure of the exact process; however, she was aware that she would have to show one her mark to at least one of the Center workers. _Guides_ , she remembered they were called. The Guide she was next in line to speak with had light brown hair pulled back into a severe bun and wore the standard white two piece suit, with a white button up underneath. _Bonnie_ , the woman’s name tag read; of course she was a _Bonnie_. Professional in the extreme, the Guide finally motioned Kim forward.

“I’ll need to see some form of identification for identity conformation before we begin, then you can go about using the database. Though it should only be used for information concerning yourself or your soul mate, of course,” Bonnie informed her in a practiced manner. Kim slid her driver’s license out of her standard thigh strapped mission bag and handed it to the Guide. Once the license was in her possession, the Guide scanned the shiny silver strip on the back and glanced at her computer. The woman looked back up at Kim, her eyes widening slightly, but soon recovered her composure and hastily gave Kim back her license. _I can see the headlines now, **‘Teen Hero Terrified of Nothing but Soul Mate’**._

“If you could come with me please, I will escort you to one of our secure computers to access the database. No electronics are allowed past this point, so your bag will be scanned and electronic contents will be stored in a locker for the duration of your visit. You will need to enter your full name in order to access any information, and are restricted to only accessing your own name and the name on your left wrist. We do have to perform an authenticity test beforehand however, if you wish to do more than just enter your own name,” Bonnie finished gesturing to the hallway in front of them that split in three directions. 

Kim finally spoke up, “What do you mean an authenticity test?”

“We simply wash your wrist and take a small skin sample to ensure that your mark is accurate and not a fabrication. The Lowerton Database Center prides itself on following proper namesake protocols,” Bonnie explained calmly.

“So, you have to see the mark?” Kim questioned hesitantly.

“I do, however every visit and all information gathered is confidential; all soul mate information is never revealed to any other person other than those having the same first, middle, and last name as yourself or your soul mate.”

“Does that happen a lot?” Kim inquired, her eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“There is an extremely small chance of mismatching soul mates, which is why both parties are asked to verify their identities and only have access to their information and that of their soul mate. If your soul mate shared a first, middle, and last name with another unmatched person, you would be afforded the freedom of contacting both matching parties. This would rule out a mismatch, once a party entered their soul mate name into the database. No Database Center worldwide has ever had a mismatch,” the Guide finished, looking at her expectantly.

Kim handed the woman her bag and watched as the Guide slid it through a small scanner on the reception table. She then retrieved Kim’s Kimmunicator and cell phone, locking them in an underfoot locker.

“Um, then I guess, I’d like to enter the name on my wrist into the database. Does that mean they’ll know who I am?” Kim questioned uncertainly, following the Guide down the first hallway to what appeared to be a small washroom, with small touch screen computers attached to the wall above the sinks. A cylindrical silver device was hooked up to each touch screen.

“No, an individual in the database is only ever notified if they receive a match or their match requests that their soul mate be contacted. The name you enter will only be aware that their name has been searched, once they return to a Database Center or receive regular updates. This often occurs when one party is over eighteen and the other is not. Please present your wrist for authentication,” Bonnie instructed.

Kim pushed up the sleeve of her violet long sleeve hoodie, only to encounter the stretchy white bracelet that her mother had gifted her with only yesterday. Looking back up at the Guide’s expectant expression, Kim slid the slim plastic off of her arm and placed it into the front pocket of her hoodie for safekeeping, then stuck out her left wrist for inspection.

Bonnie took hold of her wrist, barely sparing the name a glance and turned on the sink. The Guide then washed Kim’s wrist with some sort of solution; it wasn’t soap, because though the consistency was the same, the liquid made her wrist tingle and go numb. The feeling disappeared as soon as the Guide rinsed Kim’s wrist off, though she still kept a firm hold on her arm. Bonnie then reached up and unholstered the slim cylindrical device from its nesting position on the square touch screen computer. _What does that do?_

The guide passed the slanted edge of the detached cylinder over Kim’s wrist and she felt a slight pressure, something akin to teasing a feather lightly over her skin. Both occupants of the small sanitary room shifted their eyes toward the computer as it made a soft ding and showed a green circle. Bonnie keyed some sort of code into the device and it returned to its original screen. This might have been Kim’s first trip to a Database Center, but anyone with common sense could ascertain what the green circle represented. The Guide released Kim’s arm but still warned her, “I’ll need to have your arm in sight in order to key the name into the database- if you could follow me please.”

The two of them exited the room and turned, not back towards the main lobby, but forward down the hallway Kim had first taken to the sanitary room. The hallway itself was nothing impressive; it was all metal and tile with lights set into the side walls, yet Kim found herself glancing warily into the mirrored ceiling, unknowingly scoping out exit routes and possible threats. Passing a few metal doors with keypads, they finally stopped at a door at the end of the hall. The Guide punched in a code to the numbered keypad, then reached into her pocket and pulled out a small white paper strip. Kim watched as the woman stuck one end of the paper strip into her mouth then placed it into a loading tray on the sleek metal door. The door itself seemed to make a whirling, whizzing sound then slid up into the ceiling. The Guide motioned Kim forward, and then both stepped inside their long anticipated destination, the metal door dropping back down behind them.

_Okay, definitely not what I expected. How am I expected to have any privacy in here?_ The room itself was about half the size of Kim’s bedroom at home. The only objects in the tiny room were a smooth metal table and chair, bolted to the ground and the desktop computer atop the metallic surface of the table, also bolted down. _This is kind of extreme, isn’t it?_

“I’ll log you into the system; however, you will have locks placed on the activities you may perform and the information available to you. I will remain in the room at all times. The time you may use the database is limited to thirty minutes, any amount of time longer than this allocation must be formally requested. No devices may be connected to the computer at any time- besides, there is no way to connect a device; though, if you like I am authorized to print out the information you do have access to,” the Guide informed, walking over to the table.

Kim walked over to the table and presented her wrist once more when Bonnie gestured for her to do so. There were a few short clicks of the keyboard as the Guide typed _Sheyenne Gomez_ into the database, then performed a complicated series of commands into the side task bar. Finished securing the computer access points to the database, the Guide stepped back into a corner of the room and folded her arms, looking forward, her eyes deadened and glazed over blank. The screen showed all two of the identical search results. There were three other results with slight differences, specifically that they had middle names, though they were restricted. _Why do they even appear if I can’t access them?_ The first Sheyenne Gomez was fifty-seven, lived in Mexico, and was matched. The second was Sheyenne Gomez, followed by a phone number. That was it; no address, no age or country of nationality.

_Honestly, how is this even allowed? After the inquisition I just encountered, how could anyone get by with providing so little information?_

“Umm, Ma’am,” Kim started, turning to look at the silent Guide, “there isn’t much information here.”

“The information in the database that you are given access to is the only information available. If you need to know more, it is standard practice to get in touch with your match,” the Guide replied back smoothly.

_I’m aware of that, I’m not stupid, but there’s just a phone number. That’s all I get? Bonnie obviously isn’t authorized to do more than talk about rules and stand there like some sort of drill sergeant. I should have researched this more, but I never thought I would have to. What do I do now?_ _How am I supposed to gain anything about this person from just a phone number?_

She could practically hear Monique screaming at her to just ‘call the number already girl,’ but she wasn’t _ready_ for that. This was a big deal; she didn’t want to go into meeting the person that could become such a big part of her life empty handed. Kim needed more. She was still reluctant for people to _know_ , but maybe just Wade- and he didn’t need to know _everything_. She could do this, hell she could do anything; she just might need a bit of help along the way.

“Could you print out this page for me please?” Kim asked the stoic Guide.

The Guide simply nodded, then came over to the computer and used the sidebar to print out the current page.

“Are there any more accessible pages that you would like printed, or would you like to register?” the Guide questioned disinterestedly.

“No thank you, this should be it for me,” Kim said back hurriedly, eager to leave the Center as soon as possible. She stood up to exit the room and put her hands behind her back unconsciously.

The Guide performed some even more difficult to follow tasks on the computer then entered a code onto a keypad that had gone previously unnoticed to Kim, mounted on the inside of the room to the left of the door. She then intoned, “Please follow me, Ms. Possible.”

The door slid back up into the ceiling and the two occupants of the room rushed out, one used to the process, the other eager to depart from the small enclosure. Kim and the Guide practically retraced their steps, though the sanitary room was passed by unnoticed. Once reacquainted with the main lobby, the two took the middle hallway. This hall was similar to the first, but different in that it had no mirrored ceiling; instead, the hall had small bits of metal randomly placed into the floor that seemed to emit light. The doors, instead of being square metal hunks of steel, were rounded pods, each about a foot off of the ground and set into the walls like they belonged there.

The two women walked noticeably less far than they had on their first trip, stopping only three doors into their trek. The Guide took out the familiar white strip and placed it in her mouth before once more presenting it for the door’s inspection. This time, instead of inputting a code, the Guide gestured for Kim to come forward.

“Present your wrist to access entry and obtain your printed documents,” the door sounded in a robotic monotone. Kim looked at the Guide, who maintained her poker face and only gestured to the door, palms up and angled towards it. Kim moved her left wrist over to the slightly darker square of metal that the Guide had used, feeling stupider by the second because she was actually listening to a _door_. The same feather light pressure she had felt in the sanitary room was applied to her wrist, and then the door slid up into the wall, allowing them to enter.

The room was the same as the first, except there was no table, chair or computer. Instead, on the opposite wall a tray was built into the wall and three buttons rested above it. The two women stepped inside the room, but when Kim moved to walk over to the tray the Guide stopped her, saying, “Wait here and I’ll retrieve your printout.”The Guide stepped in front of the tray, blocking Kim’s view, but took only seconds before she was back and reopening the door.

The Guide handed Kim the printout, restating what she had seen on the computer screen of the first room, and then the two of them started on their way back to the main entrance. Kim slipped the white plastic bracelet back over her left wrist, effectively covering the mark.

…

The bus ride back had been quiet so far, allowing her mind to pour over the events that had occurred at the Database Canter. After her thoughts had begun warring with each other, Kim decided that contacting Wade should be done before she lost her nerve or changed her mind. Kim pulled out her Kimmunicator, took a deep breath, and then called Wade.


	5. Live and Learn

**Live and Learn**

_Possible Household, Upperton Central Post Office_

**“** Let me know when you find something, Wade” Kim instructed.

“Will do, Kim,” Wade replied back diligently.

“Oh, and Wade…”

“Yes, Kim?” he questioned awaiting her response.

“This stays between us. Ron has a lot on his mind right now and I can handle this case by myself.”

“Okay,” Wade nodded his head in conformation and the screen of her Kimmunicator blinked off.

_Less questions than I would have anticipated, but why would he suspect anything was amiss? It’s basically just another mission-a solo mission. It’s a solo mission to find my ‘soul mate’ and not screw things up before they even get started while still keeping Ron as my best friend and boyfriend, saving the world, and not disappointing my family or friends…just like any other Wednesday._

Wade had not suspected her of anything other than following up on a lead on Drakken- her excuse for the number she had given him. She had talked to him just as she had entered Middleton and a feeling of dread had built up with every step she took back to her home.

The twisting in her gut finally reached a crescendo when, upon arriving home, Monique’s shiny new yellow car sat in the driveway- almost mocking her for what was to come.

_Not today, not now- I just can’t deal with any questions._

Kim snuck around the side of her house, making sure to stay low to the ground and out of sight for anyone peering out a window. She then carefully climbed the old willow tree, which had branches just low enough to get a firm foot stance and make her way up to her unlocked window. Climbing back first inside of the window and closing the latch silently, Kim turned to see her mother’s face caught somewhere between anger and disbelief.

“Please, mom…I just can’t talk to her right now,” Kim murmured, looking at her feet in shame.

“Kimmie, I know whatever you might be going through is tough, but you need your friends and Monique is a good girl. She’s always been there for you. This isn’t like you, sneaking around, climbing in windows.”

“I know, but she’ll want to know…things. Stuff that I’m not ready to tell people-things I’m not even sure of yet,” Kim replied hollowly. She knew this was wrong, repeatedly sending her friends away, but she needed more time to figure this out before people started demanding answers from her. _Is that so much to ask?_

“I’ll tell her you’re not feeling well, but this isn’t just going to go away, bubble-butt. I’m here for you, but so are your friends,” Ann assured her.

“Thanks mom,” Kim whispered as Ann left her bedroom to tell Monique that, unfortunately Kimmie wasn’t feeling well and of course she would tell Kim that she stopped by and by the way the new car is beautiful-was that a birthday present?

Kim could here Monique’s dejected responses, as she pressed her ear against the door of her room, using one of Wade’s mission toys to listen to what was being said downstairs.

Fighting guilt, Kim got in bed and surrounded herself with distractions. She looked through her course catalog for her upcoming orientation at Go University, lost herself in hits and requests on her help website, and all the while glanced at her phone every few minutes. The printout sheet from the Database Center rested on her lap, yet she did not call.

…

She had managed to fend them off for six days. Kim had spent her time almost exclusively holed up in her room, avoiding her family and friends, while completing meaningless tasks to keep her mind occupied. She had cleaned her room twice, picked out her college courses, done laundry, stared at her left wrist, avoided her friends’ calls, stared at her phone, cleaned and inspected all of her mission gear, stared at the paper from the Database Center, taken a million showers to clean away the guilt and all around wallowed in her own self-imposed misery. Finally, it seemed, one of her ignored friends wouldn’t take no for an answer anymore.

At first, when she heard the tell-tale opening of the front door and the tweebs chattering, she feared it was Ron; however, the steps on the stairs ascending to her room were bulky- it almost sounded like two people stepping at once. Ron would have just bounded up; so no, it wasn’t Ron. To her surprise, it was Felix that knocked lightly on her door, then without waiting for a response, rolled in and shut it softly.

“Felix what are you doing here? I mean, how did you even get up here. Crap sorry, I didn’t mean-

“It’s fine Kim; my chair has a few extra features that helped me up the stairs, since you haven’t been coming down much lately,” he told her, rolling over to Kim’s desk.

She stared at his chair for a few seconds, awkwardly, then averted her eyes.

“You know one day you’ll be less crazy around me. It’s just a chair,” he said smiling at her and shrugging his shoulders.

“Sorry,” Kim supplied guiltily once more.

“I’ve never seen this place look so clean,” he stated lightly.

“I...umm…felt like cleaning. Things just got too messy.”

“It is, you know-messy” he muttered knowingly.

“What’s messy? I just cleaned the room again,” Kim questioned, not understanding his comment.

“Soul mates- this whole destined for life thing. You’d think it would make things clearer, but it screws everyone up; it tears them apart.”

“Felix-

“No. Just…let me explain. I’m not one of those crazies that fight it or hurt other people, but it’s stupid to think that once someone, a total stranger usually, has their name on your wrist- that everyone is going to live happily ever after. It can’t really work that way,” he told her as he moved his wheelchair to face her head on.

“You mean they’re not really soul mates?” she questioned.

“No, I mean they are-it’s just things aren’t perfect. People are still people and everyone else doesn’t disappear once you turn eighteen and get the name. You can’t keep sending us away, Kim.”

“I…I’m sorry. I’m not sure what to tell people or how to act if they ask about- about stuff.”

“None of us want to interrogate you; we’re just worried. I know how it feels to think you’ll be with someone and then suddenly, you aren’t,” Felix argued.

“What do you mean?” she questioned, holding her breath and hoping.

“Kim…if it was Ron’s name on your wrist- then you’d be with Ron. You wouldn’t be avoiding your friends and developing a cleaning disorder. You can’t wash away whoever’s name is on your wrist.”

“Does Ron know?”

“He knows that something is wrong. He knows you’re not okay and I think you should let him know why- sooner rather than later,” he reasoned.

Kim shifted in her bed and picked at the comforter swathed around her. _It’s not fair. Ron should have his mark too and then- then we could figure this out. We could stay together or at least he would have someone on his wrist, like I do._

“I didn’t just come over to tell you what to do. We all want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m not completely horrible,” Kim answered back, hugging the blanket around her more tightly.

“I get it okay? It sucks. With Zita, things were going great. I mean, I wasn’t so sure she was my soul mate or anything, but we were doing really well. We were happy and then one call from some stupid Database Center ruined everything. She’s happier now-than she was with me, but every day I wonder if there’s really someone out there for me. If Zita isn’t my soul mate, then who could it possibly be? We were perfect for each other,” Felix mourned.

“They’re out there somewhere Felix, I promise. You’ll find your one- just wait until your birthday. Things will work themselves out,” Kim promised, stealing a glance over to her phone.

“Maybe, but we both have to try, right?” Felix smirked at her lightly.

_You little weasel. Of course I would feel sorry and you would lay it on thick enough to turn everything back around on me._

“It’s not the same, Felix,” she argued shaking her head.

“It might not be, but I’m glad Zita told me before she went to the Database Center and met her soul mate. She let me know from the first phone call she received that I wasn’t her one. If she had done what you’re doing, even a week of knowing and acting weird, I don’t think I could have handled it as well as Ron is right now.”

_He’s…right. Ron doesn’t deserve this. He deserves someone that puts him first. How could I be so selfish; he’s been wondering what’s going on for over a week now._

“Maybe I shouldn’t have come here, but-

Duh Duh Duh Nuh

“Sorry,Felix,” Kim said as she scrambled to find her Kimmunicator in the newly cleaned room. It was…no she put it…

Duh Duh Duh Nuh

“It’s alright Kim, I should get going anyways. Ron and I have plans to play some video games, kill some zombies and gorge on Bueno Nacho.”

Kim scoured her pristine room for her Kimmunicator, and by the time she found it neatly resting on her bookshelf, Felix had left.

Duh Duh Duh Nuh

“Wade, I’m here, any news?” Kim questioned hopefully.

“Actually I did manage to trace the number you gave me to a P.O. Box in Upperton. I’m still working on getting deeper into their system, but it shouldn’t take too long. The number was used to register for the P.O. Box, but it’s like the name and address have been wiped out. Not even _they_ have it, but I should be able to trace where the hack that wiped the information out came from.”

“So can we open this mailbox?” Kim inquired, already slipping on her mission gear and packing a bag.

“Way ahead of you Kim, I called the post office and let them know we were headed that way on official Global Justice business. I may have also used a voiceover that scared the first guy I spoke to, so I doubt they call GJ anyways,” Wade replied helpfully.

“You rock Wade! Do I have a ride?”

“The guy that owns the dealership that you helped save from that ring of car thieves is headed your way. The ride might be a bit…conspicuous, but you’ll get there fast.”

“Thanks Wade, and remember-

“This is just between us, got it Kim,” Wade supplied, before the screen to the Kimmunicator clicked off.

…

Conspicuous was an understatement. The thing itself was sleek, obviously a fast little sports car, but most of all it was a bright cherry red. It definitely wasn’t something she would drive- far too ostentatious, but she had to admit it was a beautiful car. Vaguely on the back she noticed the word ‘Dezir,’ odd she’d never heard of that brand. Kim recognized the car’s driver at once. She had helped the squat, balding man keep his car lot safe from some meddling car thieves only just before graduation.

“Kim Possible, it’s so nice to see you again. You look even more wonderful than the last time I saw you,” the man stated happily.

“Thank you, Richard”

“Kim, please call me Rich. The least I could do is give you a ride after you got rid of those hoodlums and saved my car lot!” he responded enthusiastically.

“Oh it was no big, Rich. I was happy to help out,” Kim said, smoothing her hands over the car’s interior and gazing out the window as bits of Middleton, and then Upperton passed them by.

“You so remind me of my granddaughter, she’s only a year away from finishing school too, you know?”

Kim listened as Rich talked about his granddaughter and his car lot and tried to explain about the car he was currently driving. Kim paid attention, but in the back of her mind, she couldn’t fight the excitement she felt at the possibility of getting some answers.

…

It was empty. No mail, nothing.

Kim had arrived at the Upperton post office, leaving a cheerful Rich as he promised to pick her up when she was finished. The post office itself had to be the nicest Kim had ever seen. There was even a security guard posted at the door, yet everything had gone as planned. The postal worker recognized her from Wade’s description, hardly asked any questions and handed over the key to the correct P.O. Box right away. _I guess Global Justice has quite a bit more clout that the local police department, even for the wealthier postal customers._

Nonetheless, upon opening said P.O. Box, she found absolutely nothing. Kim’s whole body seemed to deflate. _Why does this have to be so difficult? I should just be able to find her._ _Maybe…maybe she doesn’t want to be found._ _What is she trying to do, sneak her way out of being found? Why even bother registering at the Database Center?_ Whoever Sheyenne Gomez was, she wasn’t making any sort of contact any easy endeavor.

Kim roughly pulled her Kimmunicator out of her mission bag and called Wade.

“Hey Kim, any luck?”

“I arrived just fine, even got the key to open the P.O. Box, but there’s nothing inside. It’s empty,” she muttered in an exasperated tone.

“Well, I’ve got a better lock on whoever hacked into the computer system that stores the personal information of each owner the P.O. Boxes. It might take some time, but I’ll find out what you need to know Kim. I’ll call Richard to come and take you home.”

Kim blinked a few times, willing the wetness in her eyes to go away before she broke down in a post office, of all places. This was just so ridiculous. Despite what Felix had said earlier, she had really thought that maybe things wouldn’t be perfect, but she wouldn’t have to go traipsing all over the place to find somebody that obviously didn’t want to be found.

She turned off her Kimmunicator, before Wade could see her tearing up and hastily tossed it back into her mission bag. _Hopeless, this is all so hopeless. Why did I even bother trying?_

Just as Kim moved to head over to the postal worker and thank him, despite finding _absolutely nothing_ , her phone sounded. At first glance, Kim almost threw her phone back into her mission bag, but upon further thought, saved it from the same fate as her abused Kimmunicator as she pressed the green button and held the device up to her ear.

“I’m really glad you answered,” the voice on the other end told her genuinely.

“I know I haven’t been myself lately, and that hasn’t been fair, but I just needed some space,” Kim answered back hesitantly.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I miss you a lot K.P. This is the longest we haven’t spoken since you said that the new grande nacho was the same as the old grande nacho,” Ron said dejectedly.

“I-I’m sorry. I’ve been selfish.”

“What’s going on Kim? You do some kind of disappearing act on us and then avoid everyone for a week. Is this about us? Is it your birthday; because, I really thought those nun chucks were a good present,” he questioned.

“Can we…meet somewhere? I need to talk to you, to see you,” Kim said, pacing across the tile floors of the post office and blinking back the moisture that seemed to magically reappear in her eyes.

“Yeah, sure. Do you want to meet at my house or yours? I have a wicked new video game that Felix and I have been playing. You want to check it out?”

“Actually I’m not at home right now, so I was thinking we could meet somewhere else. I know a park close to both of us. I just-feel like some fresh air, okay?”

“Alright, text me where and I’ll take my scooter. See you soon K.P.,” he answered excitedly.

“I will, Ron. Bye,” Kim choked out; her arms hugged across her body as if to protect herself from what she knew she had to do. She stepped out of the post office and scanned Upperton’s main street for her ride. Spotting the sporty red car, Kim made her way over to the vehicle and its driver, awaiting her presence.

“Rich, could you make a stop for me on the way back?”

 


	6. The Die is Cast

**The Die is Cast**

_June 11 th, Middleton Park, Park bench beside the mural_

Rich had made it to Middleton Park, shortly after Kim had called Ron, and then texted him the location of the park. The jovial older man had waved goodbye to her and asked if she was sure this is where she wanted to be dropped off, his sports car zooming off down the street when she confirmed she was where she needed to be. The problem with being dropped off so quickly was that Kim’s brain had plenty of time to mull over how things might play out while waiting for Ron to arrive on his somewhat lackluster scooter, a scooter she had grown to appreciate more and more for its endurance throughout the years.

Kim traced her fingers over the ridges in the wood on the armrest of the park bench, and then played with the edges of her white plastic bracelet. The bracelet had become a sort of stress reliever. On one hand, she hated it; she hated what it represented. It was a stupid piece of plastic, worn out of shame; she was ashamed that it wasn’t Ron’s name on her wrist, that she had somehow screwed everything up for them, and that she felt the need to cover up the elegant script that _was_ on her wrist.

On the other hand, the bracelet was her saving grace. Her mother had understood what nobody else could. Kim felt safer wearing the bracelet, even if it meant she was hiding a significant part of herself from those that mattered to her. She needed the bracelet, at least until she was ready for all of her secrets to be freed from the confines of her mind.

The gentle _put put put_ of Ron’s little blue scooter pulled her from her reverie. Looking up, Kim noticed Ron parking his scooter and using his little chin lock to secure it to one of the bike racks, even though she knew nobody would bother trying to steal the scooter, especially in this park with its owner in sight. Ron finally caught her eye and walked towards her, scooter helmet resting in his hand and a smile plastered to his face. He waved at her then bounded over to the bench, wrapping her in a bear-like hug. She clung to him, reveling in what might be the last hug she was ever privy to receive from him again.

Pulling back Ron looked at her, still smiling, “Heya K.P., long time no see, huh?” He looked at her for a second, and then his face seemed to change; the smile taken from him and replaced with a softer, gentler expression.

“I know it’s only been a week, but I was really worried about you. I came over to visit and your mom said you weren’t feeling so good. I talked to Wade, but I guess things have been kind of quiet on that front,” he said picking up her hand a squeezing it reassuringly.

 “I’m sorry about that, but I’m feeling a little better now. Things just got confusing for a while,” Kim muttered squeezing back and forcing out a smile of her own.

“What’s really going on, Kim? I thought everything was okay. I mean, at your birthday everything was great and we even stopped Drakken. Is this about those sharks? You know we couldn’t have done anything else to save them.”

“I…I haven’t been honest with you, Ron,” she whispered, her head hung down in shame.

Ron’s face contorted in confusion, placing his scooter helmet on the ground and sitting beside her on the bench.

“I wanted to be honest, but I was scared; I was so scared,” Kim repeated, a single tear tracking down her face, before she quickly wiped it away.

“What do you mean? Scared of what? We tell each other everything. Best friends since pre-k, remember?” he took her other bracelet-clad hand in his and turned more to face her on the little wooden bench. Kim was no longer attempting to maintain the faux smile she had forced earlier and she couldn’t look him in the eyes.

Kim looked out over the playground, noticing a few kids playing on the jungle-gym. A little boy fell off of the edge of the slide and a little girl close to his own age rushed over to help him up. _We used to play on that jungle-gym. That was us, and now I’ve ruined everything. I was supposed to help Ron up, not shove him down and cause him pain._

 “I don’t understand K.P. You’re never scared of anything. Is it something I did, because right now you look like you did when your grandpa died?”

“It’s nothing you did Ron. It’s not you at all, I promise. I just…I think maybe something is wrong with me,” she said, toeing the dirt on the ground miserably.

“What do you mean, Kim? There’s nothing wrong with you; you’re amazing. You save the world on a weekly, sometimes daily, basis,” he argued.

“You know how in high school we had those monthly sessions?” Kim asked, her voice straining and weak.

“The soul bond classes? Yeah, I remember. What do they have to do with anything? I slept through most of those,” Ron admitted.

“On m-my birthday, I got the name. You know, on my wrist.”

“Yeah, K.P., we get each other’s names when we turn eighteen. So what’s wrong?” Ron inquired, just as confused as before as to what the problem could be.

Sobs racked Kim’s body as she struggled to compose herself. Ron held her more tightly and this only served to make her cry harder. Finally steeling herself, Kim wiped her red, blurry eyes and unable to face Ron, pulled from his embrace. Whispering, she finally admitted the truth she had kept from him, “The name, the one on my wrist, it-it isn’t your name.”

“B-but it has to be. We’re best friends. You’re it for me Kim; you’re my one,” he breathed out brokenly, his eyes wide and fearful. Ron glanced down at the hand he was holding and then the white bracelet wrapped around her wrist. Kim pulled out of their hand-hold and tears still rushing down her face lifted her left wrist up and pulled the bracelet slightly back on one end, showing him a part of what nobody but herself and the Database worker had seen.

A small cursive ‘z’ adorned her wrist. Ron’s name contained no ‘z’.

Dropping her hands, Ron turned with his back to the bench and sat hunched over facing the rest of the park. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Kim attempting to say something, anything, and Ron staying still and refusing to look anywhere but at the grass around his sneakers. Finally he broke the silence, “I always knew we were too good to be true.”

“Ron please-

“I mean, look at you Kim, you’re everything and I’m just…just me.”

“That’s not true. You mean everything to me. You’re everything too,” she replied, struggling to breathe as the ache in her chest grew.

“But not enough,” he argued self-depreciatingly, shaking his head back and forth in denial.

“You have always been enough for me. You were there when nobody else was; you went on every mission. We’re a team.”

“I can’t- he stopped as a few tears ran down his face. “I don’t know what this means for us.”

“I will always be your best friend, if you let me,” Kim offered, “But we’re both meant to be with somebody else; you deserve someone that will put you first. You deserve to find your soul mate.”

Ron wasn’t sobbing as she had previously, but tiny tear tracks were running down his face and he moved every so often to wipe the tears with his shirt sleeve.

“I don’t want anyone else,” he contended softly, “But you’re right. You deserve to be happy, so how could I possibly try to stop you from being with someone that will make you happy, even if that person…” he struggled for a moment then finally continued, “Isn’t me.”

Kim fidgeted with her hands and blinked back the moisture threatening to break loose from her eyes. _Why? Why do you have to be so perfect- so damn sweet? This would be so much easier if you just yelled at me._

“I’m so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen,” she lamented.

“This isn’t anyone’s fault, especially not yours. It just-sucks; it’s not fair. Somewhere out there, there are two people waiting for us and the only thing I can think about is what it would be like if they didn’t exist,” Ron replied, his voice stronger now.

“But they do, and it wouldn’t be fair to any of us to pretend otherwise. We both have somebody out there, waiting on us.”

Ron shook his head minutely in affirmation then gripped his scooter helmet tightly. He briefly looked Kim in the eyes, and then stared at the playing kids. Maybe he was thinking about when they were like that, maybe not.

“I think maybe it would be best if we didn’t see each other for a while. I just…I’ve been in love with you for so long, K.P. I don’t think I know how to be just friends; I’m not sure if I can ever just be your friend without wanting more,” Ron murmured, his hands cradling his face.

“I don’t want us to stop being friends, ever. I can’t lose you, Ron. Things weren’t supposed to be like this,” Kim whispered brokenly. She took one of the hands cradling Ron’s face in her own and squeezed as if to hold on to whatever traces of their relationship that were seeping away.

“But they are,” he answered back easily. With one last clutch to her hand, he picked up his scooter helmet and walked away- from her, from the park bench, from any hope he had for them.

…

She had made it until Ron’s scooter was out of sight before she finally broke down, sobs wracking her body as she curled up on the little wooden bench and clutched her phone to her chest. Kim’s whole world was crumbling around her and the only thing she could do to make things better had failed. Ron couldn’t even look at her and it was obvious that the person meant to be her soul mate didn’t want to be found. She had ignored her friends, her family; she had alienated and then destroyed Ron. This was not how the teen hero had imagined her life would be only a couple of weeks past turning eighteen.

_I’ve done all of this, everything and for what- a woman that might not even exist, my soul mate that doesn’t want to be contacted- I’ve caused nothing but problems for myself. It doesn’t matter anymore; what else have I got to lose?_

Kim sat up on the little bench, still crying her face was red and her eyes were bleary. She wiped her eyes then pulled the slip of paper that had tauntingly resided in her pocket since the trip to the Lowerton Database Center and punched the number into her cell phone. She looked at the numbers for a moment, double checking that they were correct, and then hit the small green call button.

The phone rang unanswered for around thirty seconds, until a robotic female voice intoned, “The number you have dialed is not currently available. To leave a voice message, please press one or stay on the line.” Kim waited for the beep, indicating her recording had started, and then began, “I don’t know if know you exist, or if you want to be contacted, even though this number was all that you left at the Database Center. Hell, I don’t even know if you’re real-” a sob broke free from her mouth and she struggled to speak. “If you’re out there, Sheyenne, then you need to know that I’ve done everything to find you; one of the most important people in my life might never speak to me again. I have screwed up so much in my life because your name is on my wrist, but I will not give up. Just, please…please if you’re out there…please-”

“You have reached your quota of time for this voice message. If you would like to leave another message-”

Kim angrily crushed down on the red button to disconnect the call as she was interrupted by the robotic voicemail coordinator. Looking around, Kim noticed that the sky had darkened into dusk and after some thought dialed a number she had memorized by heart. Not giving the person on the other end a chance to say a word, Kim begged gently, “Could you come pick me up? I know I’ve been a terrible friend, b-but I-”

“Where are you?” the voice asked calmly through the speaker of the cell phone.

“Middleton Park, the one with the new mural,” she explained hoarsely.

“I know where that is. Stay put, I’m on my way, alright?”

Kim hung up the call, sniffling into the receiver, defeated. She then hugged the phone back into her body, resting it over her rapidly beating heart and buried her face into the crook of her arm. She cried for everything she had lost and the crushing loneliness that settled in around her.

…

Nearly seven hours later, miles across town in a beautifully furnished apartment, a blinking red light on an answering machine was turned off and the message was played. Instantly recognizing the voice, the owner of the apartment moved darkly painted fingernails over the repeat button, and listened to the message again and again before deleting it altogether. The woman stared at the answering machine for a few seconds then lit her hands and heaved the machine across the room, where it met its fiery demise.

The simple, yet modern décor was a mixture of lavish black and green, most easily observed when the scrambling dark haired woman pulled a black duffle bag out from underneath her bed and tossed it easily onto the ebony and lime swirl patterned comforter. The owner of the expensive and elegant looking apartment rushed around the place, occasionally shoveling clothes and other belongings into a large black duffle bag. There were few personal objects littered around the stylish apartment, so it was relatively easy to gather all of her possessions in her hurried departure. In the haze of her panic induced rush, the woman forgot to grab the black and green cat suit, stored neatly in her bedroom closet, hidden behind a shoe cubby.

 Grabbing the crammed full duffle bag, the woman retrieved her keys and locked the door behind her. Sparing one last backwards glance, she walked down the hall into the floor’s elevator, marching inside the just-opening metal doors. Finally descending to the ground floor, the pale skinned woman pushed the unlock button on her keychain and slid into a sleek black Camaro, tossing the duffle into the passenger seat. A single tear made its way down her face, yet her eyes shone with fury instead of sorrow.


	7. Anything is Possible

**Anything is Possible**

_Possible household, Upperton Apartment_

The first thing Kim noticed upon awakening was that she felt like she had been run over by an eighteen wheeler. Her head throbbed and every time she attempted to open her eyes to investigate what seemed to be shuffling around her room, the glaring light of day brought her that much closer to her impending migraine. Rubbing her hands over her eyes, Kim heard the shuffling stop abruptly. Still slightly disoriented, she looked up to blurrily see Monique smiling sheepishly at her. The last thing she remembered was the awful meeting with Ron, stupidly leaving that message and barely functioning well enough to dial Monique. The rest of the night was a blur, except for a vague sense of guilt and cold feet. Kim wiggled her toes, now devoid of socks. _She must have taken them off last night, and put on…a Club Banana robe. Since when do I own one of these?_

Blinking a few times to gain some focus, Kim sat up and stared at her friend standing at the foot of her bed, a lavender toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. Kim simply raised an eyebrow at her and Monique took the toothbrush out mumbling, “Or om wet me bowwow a toofbush,” gesturing to Kim’s bedroom door, first to the right and then to the left. Kim shook her head in confusion, and then winced when she felt the migraine rear its ugly head. Monique held up her index finger, and then walked out of Kim’s door toward the bathroom. Slightly puzzled, Kim gingerly got up and followed her friend down the short hallway. After allowing Monique to rinse and spit, Kim cocked her eyebrow up in puzzlement.

“Your mom let me borrow a toothbrush,” she repeated, holding up the aforementioned brush and flicking it at a defenseless Kim. Wiping water droplets from her face, the teen hero smiled briefly. “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed us- being friends, flinging toothpaste; before everything got complicated.”

“You mean before you isolated yourself from your friends and dedicated yourself to becoming a depressed hermit,” Monique argued back, her tone sassier with every passing word.

“Yeah, before that.” Kim admitted softly, gazing down at her bare feet on the cold grey slate of the bathroom floor.

“Nice robe, by the way.”

“I actually have no idea how I got it,” Kim admitted, puzzled by the silky blue garment tied around her frame.

Monique laughed lightly and then stepped forward to poke Kim’s shoulder, clothed in the silky material.

“I bought it for your birthday, but you and Ron ran off so fast, you didn’t get the chance to open it. It was still in the downstairs closet from the party.”

“Thank you, it’s beautiful.” Kim looked back to Monique, and then was once again overwhelmed with all of what was still unsaid between them. Ron had been her best friend since pre-k, but Monique was the one she talked to- the person that she confided in. A week suddenly felt far too long to go without speaking.

“I’ve been thinking and I really need for us to talk- for us to be okay again.” Monique fiddled with the borrowed toothbrush, before sliding it into the toothbrush holder resting on the sink.

Kim felt a lump rise up in her throat, the guilt almost choking her. She had never meant to alienate her friends, but she was sure that nobody would understand what she was going through. She was scared, but Monique had shown time and time again that she could handle whatever came with being Kim’s friend- including this.

“I’d really like that, but ummm…..do you think that I could shower first?”

Monique laughed, “Of course. I’m just glad you’re alright. You kind of scared me last night.” She was still smiling lightly, but her eyebrows had also crinkled in concern.

“Yeah, Mo, I’m alright. Thank you -for last night and for being such a good friend.”

Monique nodded her head and then shut the door, leaving Kim to her requested shower and thoughts on their upcoming ‘talk’.

…

The scalding heat of her shower seemed to wash away any indecision she might have had beforehand. She needed to tell Monique why she had been so distant. She didn’t necessarily need to tell her…everything, but Monique deserved to know why her best friend had ignored her for over a week, especially a week most gushed about to their friends.

Upon trekking back into her room, Kim discovered that Monique was no longer there. She got dressed and ran a brush through her hair, then made her way downstairs. The smell of her mom’s famous breakfast buffet told her exactly where she could find her friend, and indeed as she entered the kitchen, Monique was crunching on bacon opposite the tweebs. Perhaps it was the fact that she had not ventured outside of her room for over a week, but both Jim and Tim seemed much nicer to her. They hadn’t even taken her breakfast.

There wasn’t much small talk over breakfast, and so Kim was left to her thoughts as well as her food. She just wasn’t sure where to begin _. If I tell Monique my soulmate isn’t Ron, she’ll want to know who it is instead. If I tell her we broke up, she’ll obviously want to know why. Maybe…maybe-_

“Kim, girl are you done?” Monique was placing her plate and cup in the dishwasher. The kitchen was empty except for the two of them and she could distantly hear her dad tinkering with something in his lab, just to the left of the kitchen, in the basement.

“Yeah, I just zoned out, I guess. We should talk... about last week- this week.”

“I’m all ears. Last night you really worried me and I know we might have been fighting or whatever…but I don’t know. I’m glad you called me,” Monique stated solemnly.

“I was never mad at you, Mo. I was trying to figure some stuff out and I guess I couldn’t deal with everybody asking questions that I didn’t have answers to.”

“I get that you might have been busy with missions and stuff, but you’re my best friend. I’m here if you need help, so you don’t have to ignore me. Just tell me that you need some space, or that you want me to give you time to figure stuff out. I might not know what you’ve been going through, but did you even think that I might be dealing with something too?” Monique stared at the granite countertop, her hands fidgeting with the edges.

“I…I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve to be treated the way I’ve treated you. I haven’t been a very good friend,” Kim admitted guiltily. Monique raised her gaze from the counter to rest on Kim, whose pout was unintentionally pitiful.

“Monique shook her head, “It’s okay. I know what it’s like to want to figure something out before people start questioning you about it.”

_What does she mean? Monique always talks to me about everything. It doesn’t matter if it’s school, clothes, parents, boys…_

“Was the thing you were going through- the thing you were dealing with too, was it your soulmark?” Kim questioned her lightly.

“Was yours?” Monique asked in turn, avoiding Kim’s line of inquiry.

Kim merely stared at her empty plate, waiting for the uncomfortable silence that had come between them to dissipate. Finally tiring of their standoff, Monique took Kim’s plate and loaded it, too, into the dishwasher.

“It’s not Ron,” Kim admitted with a sigh of defeat.

Monique turned back to face Kim, her face crinkling in confusion.

“My mark- it’s not Ron’s name,” she explained.

“I…I thought maybe the two of you were fighting about college or missions or something, but…I never realized…” Monique let the word hang, suspended in her own puzzlement and at the same time not knowing how to respond to her friend’s admission. She was surprised, but then again, was she really?

“I kept telling myself that something must have gone wrong- that we were absolutely meant to be together, but after last night…I just don’t know anymore,” Kim admitted, her shoulders shrugging uselessly.

“Nobody is forcing you into anything, Kim. You’re allowed to be unsure.” Monique played with the dishrag and turned back to start the washer, missing the dead look in Kim’s eyes as she did.

“I’m sick of it. I don’t want to be the girl that stands out- not like this. I just wanted to have somebody- and Ron was always there. Not because he needed help with homework, or because I was cheer captain. He liked me. So I just thought…”

“That he would be your soulmate. Even if you both deserved different.”

“Was it that obvious?” Kim asked, her throat tightening as if to keep the question at bay.

“I get the best friends since pre-k thing, but you and Ron have always been on different pages. I could see it, the same way could have- if you wanted to. Everyone did. I mean, come on Kim, the hero doesn’t settle down with the sidekick.”

“That’s not all we were. He’s my best friend- or at least he was until last night.”

“It might seem unfair, but would it have been better if you figured out things weren’t right a year from now, ten years from now?” Monique asked her quietly.

The question planted itself firmly in Kim’s mind. Had she been deluding herself about Ron? She knew that sometimes they seemed to be at opposite sides of the spectrum, but they had a sort of balance right? He made her feel normal, but no…that wasn’t right either. Saving the world made her feel right, like she was doing something good. Ron made her feel…better.

Every time he screwed up and she was able to fix things at the last minute, she felt good about herself. Had she been using him all along? The more she thought about it, the more she realized that they had probably been using each other. _He has more potential than he lets people see, even me. Those mystical monkey powers didn’t choose him for no reason. So why hide behind the figure of my sidekick? Or was I holding him back all along?_

She continued the back and forth musing in her head until she was broken out of it by a damp dishcloth hitting her left ear. Monique was staring at her expectantly.

“What?” Kim questioned, completely missing what Monique had said.

“I _said_ my parents are having a cookout next week and you should come. Unless you’re too busy moping or giving puppy-dog pouts to your mirror, or something.” Monique’s face quirked up into a half smile.

“I’ll have you know that the puppy-dog pout is an art form. It takes years of dedicated practice to master,” Kim admonished.

Monique smirked at her friend then sighed as she checked the time on the digital clock readout above the stove.

“As much fun as this has all been, I have to go to work. The employee discount is too good to give up.”

The two girls hugged and said their goodbyes before parting. Kim watched Monique speed down the street in her little red car, then went back inside. She might have made up with Monique, but she also understood that there were a lot of questions still unanswered. Not only did she and Monique need to fix the friendship that had apparently been slipping for quite some time, but she also needed to figure things out for herself.

_What do I want? Not this mess with Ron- not anymore. It’s wasn’t fair to either of them and she much preferred having him as her friend to not having any part of him._

Kim needed to fix things, she just wasn’t sure how, or even where, to begin.

…

It was a testament to Wade’s computer skills that he managed to track the call to an Upperton address. He had called her several times in the two weeks or so that had passed between her impromptu visit to the small post office, only to lament that the call was “untraceable.” Each time she had encouraged him to keep working, to do _anything_ he had to do in order to find whoever the postal box belonged to, and today he had finally managed the seemingly impossible feat.

She was sleeping, quite peacefully all things considered, when the familiar sound of her Kimmunicator woke her around 3 A.M.

“I found it.”

Kim’s body froze, and the only sound able to permeate her sleep and disbelief addled brain was the unnaturally loud thumping of her heart. Surely she was dreaming?

“I traced the phone number you gave me to an address in Upperton. It’s actually within the zip code boundaries of the post office and I was only barely able to find the bits of deleted code that led me to more deleted and hidden code that sent me to an offshore account located in the Bahamas to pay for the P.O. Box. That led me to—

“Wade! Slow down!” Kim got out of bed and threw on some clothes while Wade slowed down his rant.

“It led me to a small rental home that was owned there as well as several other properties, which led me to a name used for an address in Upperton,” he continued breathlessly.

“What’s the name?” Kim’s hand shook slightly and she swallowed the fear and excitement creeping up and constricting her throat.

“S. Gomez. It’s actually pretty weird because there are a lot of people named S. Gomez, but only one in Upperton and only maybe a few in the world that could afford those kind of houses,” he explained, his voice too fast for this time of night.

“How long have you been working on this, Wade?”

“Pretty much nonstop since you told me to. I mean I’ve had breaks and energy drinks and coffee, but I knew that if I just traced the—

“Wade!”

“Sorry Kim.”

“Thank you Wade. Now send me the address and get some sleep,” she ordered him gently.

“Gotcha Kim,” he responded complacently. She felt her Kimmunicator buzz with a new message and coordinates. Kim also opened up a small message from Wade displaying a layout of the building which she saved and quickly committed to memory. Shoving a couple items into a bag, for just in case, Kim stared at the address and prepared herself for what was to come. She quietly opened her bedroom window, and then shimmied out onto the tree situated just outside of the window ledge.

…

Getting into the upscale apartment building at three in the morning had been less of a challenge than she would have imagined. The doorman was there, but he seriously posed no match for her combined level of stealth and determination. Once inside the main lobby, which for the time of night was fairly well lit, she quietly made her way over to the discreet elevator resting by the elegant marble staircase.  Reaching into her mission bag, Kim pulled out a small black device resembling a radio and pressed the small red button on its side—pointing the device at the card reader in front of her. After a few moments, the elevator dinged open and she quietly stepped inside.

Kim kept her head down but surreptitiously pressed the elevator button to her left, the thirteenth floor lighting up vibrantly against the ambient glow of the lighted ceiling. The ride up was silent and as the doors slid open she lifted her head to see plush burgundy carpeted hallways and chic light fixtures in varying shades of silver hanging from  the ceiling. It’s beyond lavish.

She softly plodded down the carpeted hallway, stopping when she reached the door marked with an elegantly rendered “7.” Kim stared it for a moment, holding her breath in anticipation. _This is it; this could mean nothing or everything._ Kim let out a shaky exhale, then rapped her knuckles against the door. There were a few seconds of silence, then she heard footsteps move closer. Finally, the door swung open to reveal-

“Shego?”

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually my first piece of writing that I'm submitting for the- oh so wonderful -internet to read, so constructive comments are encouraged. This should also be found under the same name on ff.net sometime this week, if you frequent there more often.   
> Also, I in no way own Kim Possible or any of its characters or Timer and its premise-I'm simply borrowing them for some fun.


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